Imagine we could open our brains, like the opening of the lid of a grand piano. And imagine by touch, we could play the memories that are physically stored like piano keys in our minds.
Our memories have physical places on the landscape of our brains. These places are activated electrically through our neural networks and synapses, and stored in specific locations. If a neurosurgeon touches this wrinkle you will see the first time you opened your eyes underwater, she touches another bulge and you see your toes sinking into the sand on your last trip to the sea…
Imagine this: neural plasticity tells us that between in the time that you spend reading this text, and looking at my prints, your brain will have physically transformed. The topography of our brains, their valleys, hills and long-treaded paths change each time we learn, repeat or experience anything.
Each time we learn something, we are creating a bulk of thought-matter called Grey Matter which has a measurable mass. If you take up playing piano today, and you measure the part of your brain governing this skill, three months from now, after serious practice, that part of your brain will have put on weight.
This means that thoughts and memories are matter. Each time we revive a memory, the neural connections, like paths through a forest, are made less wild, and more accessible.
Using various printmaking matrixes (etched copper plates and silkscreen stencils) to create a body, a bulk of matter that is both creative and dense like Grey Matter, my multiples will inhabit, will grow into the landscapes where they are installed. These repetitions will be a kind memorization.
As you look at my etchings of neurons, my silkscreens of neural networks, my petri dish paintings, and my collages of maps and found mnemonics, are you not perhaps looking at the portraits of my remembered ancestors? Are you perhaps looking at the hard drive diagram my summer memories of the lakes of my hometown, or reading the code of my muscle memory of my fingers on black and white keys?
When you are facing my scrolls and repeats, what does it mirror back to you? Does seeing the mechanism of your own mind make you feel different? Does it tingle a little bit, wondering, is she talking about me? Maybe she knows I am transmitting directly to her.
Our memories have physical places on the landscape of our brains. These places are activated electrically through our neural networks and synapses, and stored in specific locations. If a neurosurgeon touches this wrinkle you will see the first time you opened your eyes underwater, she touches another bulge and you see your toes sinking into the sand on your last trip to the sea…
Imagine this: neural plasticity tells us that between in the time that you spend reading this text, and looking at my prints, your brain will have physically transformed. The topography of our brains, their valleys, hills and long-treaded paths change each time we learn, repeat or experience anything.
Each time we learn something, we are creating a bulk of thought-matter called Grey Matter which has a measurable mass. If you take up playing piano today, and you measure the part of your brain governing this skill, three months from now, after serious practice, that part of your brain will have put on weight.
This means that thoughts and memories are matter. Each time we revive a memory, the neural connections, like paths through a forest, are made less wild, and more accessible.
Using various printmaking matrixes (etched copper plates and silkscreen stencils) to create a body, a bulk of matter that is both creative and dense like Grey Matter, my multiples will inhabit, will grow into the landscapes where they are installed. These repetitions will be a kind memorization.
As you look at my etchings of neurons, my silkscreens of neural networks, my petri dish paintings, and my collages of maps and found mnemonics, are you not perhaps looking at the portraits of my remembered ancestors? Are you perhaps looking at the hard drive diagram my summer memories of the lakes of my hometown, or reading the code of my muscle memory of my fingers on black and white keys?
When you are facing my scrolls and repeats, what does it mirror back to you? Does seeing the mechanism of your own mind make you feel different? Does it tingle a little bit, wondering, is she talking about me? Maybe she knows I am transmitting directly to her.
